Disclaimer: Not mine, sadly. It does belong to a brilliant woman though.

Incoming: A very emotional chapter containing a very stubborn Hermione, a bit of Dumbles bashing (not to worry, Hermione just needs to get some things off her chest…), and a very confused werewolf.


CHAPTER NINE: Truth


"The truth is rarely pure and never simple."

~ Oscar Wilde


Early Saturday morning, October 29th

God his body hurt.

He was a reasonable young man, and had it been a one-time occurrence he would not have acted like such a whiny brat.

But it was every single month.

Every fucking month for the rest of his miserable life!

He was exhausted and sore, trying hard not to curse the horrible creature that bit him as a child. He often wondered what kind of person would even consider doing that to a child, let alone do it. To do something so terrible, and like it, but he always reached the same conclusion.

Fenrir Greyback was not a person; he was not human. He couldn't possibly be a human being. If ones actions were what defined you, then he was a great many things, but human was not one of them.

He was the boogey-man every child hid from under the covers of their beds; he was the star of every nightmare; he was a demon let loose on earth. But never human.

And what did that make him?

He suffered from the same affliction Greyback did, he was the same as him when the moon shone brightest in the night, even if James and Sirius continuously denied his claims. He was capable of the same evil, the same terrifying horrors as the beast he despised the most.

What did that make him? Just what? What!

He turned around much too quickly, with motions so violent his body protested, and he hissed at the sudden bursts of pain. He needed to stop doing this to himself, and he was forever grateful for the three friends that were bestowed upon him. He didn't know what he would do without them.

He would probably have killed himself, he imagined.

But no matter. He had friends to die for, and even tonight they had kept him company, although the night had been kind to them for once. Usually they ended up right next to him, in a hospital bed of their own. But luckily they hadn't tonight.

Today, however, really wasn't his day, and to make matters worse, Madam Pomfrey had confiscated his chocolate supply. That woman could be pure evil when she wanted to.

His grumbling was interrupted by the arrival of three individuals, crashing rather loudly into the room.

"That was quite a daunting experience, Miss Edwards." Professor Dumbledore said, though not quite with the same amount of enthusiasm as he usually associated with his Professor.

"I think you earned the right to call me Hermione after tonight, Professor." He could hear Hermione say, and by the sound of her voice, she might as well have been through the same as he had on this dreadful night.

"Hermione it is then. I suppose the same goes for you, Hermione." This whole thing was rather odd, and the familiarity was even more puzzling.

"Only in private, Albus."

"Thank you Auggy. You have no idea how grateful I am." Remus had no idea who Auggy was. "I wasn't sure you would respond to my call, but I am happy you did." She whispered.

"Auggy likes Miss Hermy, and Auggy is honoured you would think of her." Ah, a house-elf. That made more sense.

Not long after Madam Pomfrey stumbled in.

"What on earth is going on, Albus? At this hour of the night?" Madam Pomfrey asked frazzled, as she staggered tiredly out of her room. He could tell she had just had a rather rude awakening – which he, too, would have had, had he not already been awake – and she was starting to get frustrated, and that was never a good thing where Madam Pomfrey was concerned.

"Are you mad, Albus? What happened to that poor girl this time? To think you would-" She was cut off by Dumbledore, and Remus was for once annoyed the curtains were obscuring his view. He rather liked his privacy. Normally, that is.

"She agreed to this on her own." Dumbledore said calmly. "And she would not have it any other way."

"She is just a child!" She hissed as quietly as humanly possible. He honestly wanted to tell her not to bother, seeing as he was already awake, but the conversation was much too interesting for him to be polite and make his presence known.

"I know, Poppy." It was frightening how calm he sounded, resigned perhaps, but calm.

"Then why do you continue this madness?" Pomfrey said softly, her voice almost breaking.

"Because it is necessary."

Remus was confused, and not just the typical 'what has Sirius done this time?' or 'why does Lily put up with him?', no, this was madness at the highest level. Edwards was once again creating more questions than answers and explanations. And she was apparently doing something very dangerous. His spidey-senses were tingling alarmingly, and so were his sharpened wolf senses. But – and there was the famous but – Dumbledore was in on it, he knew what was going on, and he supported whatever it was they were doing.

Knowing him, he was probably the mastermind behind it all.

Perhaps he shouldn't question it, as it was clearly something that did not concern him, but he was a Marauder, and everyone knew that the Marauders of Hogwarts were curious by nature. There was no way he would forget this, if anything he would actually do some digging of his own.

.


.

Oh, the pain.

She had yet another bloody headache. Really. Life was out to get her, and she had to wonder what she had ever done to deserve this treatment. Perhaps she would know one day, but she doubted it.

"Oh… Hello Professor." Her voice was hoarse, and she was slightly disconcerted when she discovered her Professor sitting in one of the uncomfortable Hospital chairs next to her. Why he hadn't used his superior transfiguration skills to make himself more comfortable, she couldn't quite figure out, but perhaps he too was fatigued.

The washed-out white curtains around them were closed, giving them the precious privacy she always craved with an unparalleled hunger.

"Hermione," he began, fully aware of her next words. She didn't allow him to continue his train of thoughts.

"No, Professor. This is my fight." She stared at him, a mad gleam in her eyes. "I, and I alone, will be the one to take care of Tom Riddle." He shook his head sadly, openly disagreeing with her statement.

"I have told you this before, but you are not alone in this, Hermione. This war affects all of us. You don't have to do everything by yourself anymore."

"But you forget, Albus. I have been alone for far too long now for it to make a difference. I have been fighting for my right to be in this world since I was eleven. Before my arrival everything rested solely on Harry's ability to bring down the Dark Lord, no matter how misplaced that responsibility might be. Everyone made it so, even you…" She paused, gnawing on her lip, as if contemplating her previous words.

"No…" She shook her head. She looked sharply at the older wizard. Her gaze did not waver, nor did it make any room for contradiction.

"Especially you, Professor."

They regarded each other for several long minutes, and to her it felt more like hours than actual minutes. Staring down Albus Dumbledore like he was a mere schoolboy was no easy feat, but Hermione Granger was not one to back down from a fight.

Then she saw it.

Pity… and amusement.

She could actually see amusement flicker across his wrinkly old face, as if her accusations were nothing more than petty jokes to him. She knew he found her entertaining, and by the gods, she had the sudden urge to tell him not to egg her on. The result would not be pretty.

Not by a long stretch.

His look alone was enough to make her fly off the handle.

He might not like to hear what she had to say next, but he would damn well hear it anyway.

"Then let me ask you this, Albus. Did you, or did you not, feel responsible for the havoc Gellert caused? You might be one of the most powerful wizards to exist in this century, but as far as I recall, Gellert Grindelwald's reign was in France and Germany. He came nowhere near England at the time. Yet you still felt obligated to stop him." She looked shrewdly at him, her words cold as ice.

It was wrong of her, she knew, but she felt smug at the grim expression that settled on his face. He had clearly not expected her to know of that particular incident, well, other than what was generally known to the public.

"Was it, perhaps, for the greater good? Hmm? No, that wasn't it, was it? No, I bet it was revenge. Poor Ariana, to get-"

In retrospect that probably wasn't the most intelligent thing to say, but she was past caring.

"Enough!" He snapped, barely holding himself together. "You go too far this time."

"But don't you see, Professor? It's exactly the same." She kept her calm and ignored the fury that seemed to emanate from him. His fury was of the silent kind, the kind you would do anything not to experience, and it only made it that much more frightening coming from Albus Dumbledore. But she had been through enough to let his petty feelings deter her.

"That was your fight, and this is mine. Respect my wishes, it's all I ask."

He didn't answer her, nor did she want him to.

No more words were exchanged between the two of them that night. They did, however, try to stare the other down, but neither would bend. Brown eyes clashed icy blue.

At some point they reached a truce, a mutual agreement to not question each other any further, to not rip open and claw at old wounds, and to stop pitying the other – both were undeniably guilty of these accusations. Fighting amongst each other would prove harmful to their cause, and conflicted feelings could mean their downfall. They needed to work together in order for them to succeed, whether they wanted to or not.

Both wanted to be the one in charge, and to be the one to take on the heavy burden alone. Harry's fate was destined to be devastating and lonely, and she figured hers would be the same.

How their partnership would evolve from now on was entirely up to her. She might still insist on being the 'new Harry', but she was, above all, a rational young woman. Deep down she knew he was right to not let her do everything by herself, but Harry, Ron and her had been on their own for far too long. She knew she had to cooperate, but she had decided a long time ago that she would do it her way.

When Dumbledore finally left, a nod from both concluding their disagreement, Hermione was spent. Her parents had always told her she had an old soul, and she had by all means agreed with them, but this was beyond ridiculous. She felt old beyond her years, far older than should be allowed for a girl her age. Her body was once again aching all over, and she had that blasted and all too familiar headache too.

She scoffed to herself.

Luck had never been on her side.

.


.

A few beds away Remus Lupin was wide-awake, trying hard not to make a sound, and pretty sure what he had just overheard was, in fact, not a dream.

He didn't get a wink of sleep the rest of the night.

.


.

"Edwards! Where the bloody hell have you been?" Sirius hollered, immediately taking a break from his intake of breakfast the moment he spotted Hermione nearing the Gryffindor table. Her movements were slow and she looked dead on her feet.

"Morning boys." She said tiredly. Hospital beds were a killer. Never mind Voldemort and his faithful lapdogs, she was certain that with the amount of time she spent in the Hospital Wing, it would most likely be the bloody beds that would lead to her early demise. She cringed at the thought, and took a sweeping look around the Great Hall.

There were surprisingly few attending breakfast for a Sunday morning, the long wooden tables void of people, but she supposed most students tended to sleep in whenever they could. Even Lily was nowhere to be seen.

Which led to the most important question; why were all four Marauders up so early?

Whatever the reason, it couldn't be good.

"You missed out on the amazing pre-Halloween party Friday night." James supplied, but did so in a lower voice. He elbowed Sirius in the ribs. "The next time you feel the need to shout so close to my ears, you could at least give a fair warning beforehand." He scowled at his best mate.

"Sorry, Prongs." And obviously he didn't look sorry at all.

"Prat."

"Tosser."

"Mangy dog."

"Would you two be quiet, before I hex you into the next century. Both of you." Hermione levelled a glare at them. While she was healthy enough to be out of the Hospital Wing – even if she was released with an unsatisfied glare from an obviously disapproving Madam Pomfrey – she felt emotionally and physically spent, and as she had argued with the concerned nurse, she would rather sleep it off in her own bed, than be forced to be confined to one of the awful beds in the Hospital Wing.

"Someone is cranky this morning." James quipped. He was too happy at this time of the day, this horribly early hour. He propped a grape into his mouth, entirely to pleased with himself, and happily ignorant of the dark thoughts slowly forming in her cunning mind.

How dare he. She glared. To be this cheerful at eight in the morning. How dare he.

"I haven't exactly had the best weekend." She grimaced, trying to untangle a defiant knot of hair. She desperately needed a hairbrush, and if not found soon – and used religiously – she was afraid her wayward hair would stay in this state for the rest of her life.

And she needed a bath, too.

"What exactly did you do?" Sirius inquired curiously, cocking his head to the side, his breakfast still forgotten. He seemed awfully attentive of her this morning. His long fingers drummed on the table, a sign of his apparent restlessness.

"I had an errand to run."

"Well that was helpful." Peter frowned, finally joining in on the conversation.

Remus didn't say a thing, she noted. Instead he kept looking oddly at her; it unnerved her. Had she said or done anything to warrant his suspicious stares? She hoped not. Though, her old Professor had always been rather perceptive.

"It was nothing important. I just had a few things to take care of in Gringotts." She lied, the words easily slipping through her lips. Remus' eyes narrowed at her answer.

That obviously couldn't be good.

"Oh." He paused. "I see." Sirius said, clearly uncomfortable. He probably thought it had something to do with her parents and the assets they had left in her care, and seeing as goblins took their time where death in the family was concerned, it wouldn't be surprising for it to have taken this long. It was a plausible explanation, and it could also explain her fatigue.

She said down next to Sirius, and he instantly grabbed a muffin for her, as if reading her thoughts. She craved a muffin and a nice cup of tea.

"Thank you."

"So, what else happened while I was gone? I see the castle is still standing, so obviously you must have been otherwise occupied." She smirked at them, though her words lacked her usual vivaciousness.

"Very funny, Edwards." James said in a droll tone.

"We were nursing our hangovers from Friday night, and Remus was unfortunate enough to land himself in Madam Pomfrey's care." Peter said, smiling at her as usual.

Hermione stiffened at his reply. That meant Remus might have heard more than he should have.

"Oh. I hope it was nothing serious." She directed her words towards Remus, silently pleading with her eyes, and trying to discern exactly how much he had heard, if anything.

"No, not at all. Just a poor victim of a simple prank, ironic as it may seem." He replied, his face completely unreadable.

"Seems reasonable enough to me." Hermione replied testily.

"So, are you going to tag along today?" Sirius interrupted, ignorant to the tense air around his friends.

"Where to?" She frowned.

"To Hogsmeade of course!" James erupted in outrage. "How can you not know that?"

"Now that you mention it, it does sound vaguely familiar, and it would explain why the three of you are up so early." She mused. The monthly trip to Hogsmeade had not exactly been her first priority, and suddenly their cheery behaviour made sense. It finally clicked into place.

"Vaguely? Vaguely! You must be out of your bloody mind, Edwards. This trip decides the outcome of the next month's pranks!" James continued vehemently. "You're a disgrace to all troublemakers!" He huffed.

She simply arched an eyebrow in return, daring him to say another insulting word. He blanched when he caught the sight of the cool look on her face.

"What the dolt means to say, is that this trip is muy importante, if you catch my drift." Peter supplied, inwardly laughing at the constipated look on James' face. His adoration for Hermione was becoming well known in their group, and the way she constantly brushed off his friends' teasing, apparently made her even more attractive in his eyes.

"Thank you, Peter. It's nice to see someone has good manners around here." She smiled at him, no longer wary at his longing looks. Well, not that much, it still unnerved her a bit, but at least she now understood why he clung to her.

"Oi! I have manners too!"

"Yes, Sirius, but no one said yours were good." She deadpanned, not even bothering to look at him. She took a sip of her apple and cinnamon tea, savouring the taste of heaven, her taste buds practically humming in delight.

"She got you there, Pads." Remus chuckled, then turned his attention back to his edition of The Daily Prophet. He grimaced at an article that caught his interest.

"James, are you going to stick up for me or what?" Sirius pouted.

"Nope. You walked right into that one, mate." James said neutrally. He was not going to risk another glare from Hermione. He had known her long enough to know not to mess with her, when she was tired and irritable, having dealt with both her and Lily after long hours of studying. It could be compared to poking a sleeping bear. Continuously.

"Typical." He grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest in a childish and indignant way.

"Oh, grow up, Sirius." Hermione rolled her eyes at his sulky behaviour. She stuffed the last piece of her muffin into her mouth and rose from her seat.

"Well, boys, I'm off to bed. Have fun in Hogsmeade."

"See you later!" Sirius was still sulking when she left, but she could practically feel his eyes following her out of the Great Hall.

.


.

At the moment she cursed the size of the castle. Her body craved sleep, and Gryffindor Tower was not in the near vicinity. To top it all she had a suspicious Remus Lupin on her tail. She needed to be more careful from now on.

Her worries were soon put to rest, when Remus caught her on her way up the moving stairs, nearly scaring the bejesus out of her.

"Hermione." Her body went rigid, and she whirled around to face him, her hair as uncontrollable and wild as the look in her eyes. Her eyes searched the hallway for potentially unwanted company. She found none.

"You don't have to say anything. I just wanted to let you know that I have no intention of repeating what I heard in the Hospital Wing. Not to anyone." She looked relieved and slightly suspicious, but relief seemed to overweigh the rest.

"It sounded serious, and it has absolutely nothing to do with me, yet." He knowingly added that last part, looking her straight in the eyes. He had gathered enough to understand war was coming – and soon. Everyone would have a part in the upcoming war, whether they wanted to or not.

"Thank you, Remus." She released a deep breath, relief flooding her senses.

"Don't mention it." He replied evenly. He turned to leave, but thought better of it, and stopped the turning of his body midway. He hesitated for a moment, considering what he was going to say, before shaking his head and said, "you know, you ought to go back to bed. You look positively dead on your feet."

"Where do you think I was going just now?" She arched an eyebrow challengingly, her confidence back in place.

He held his hands up in defeat. "I rest my case."

.


.

"Are you sure you want to stay? It's a nice distraction from school, I'll have you know." Lily huffed petulantly. She had clearly looked forward to showing Hermione around Hogsmeade.

"Yes, I'm sure." Hermione sighed wearily.

"Fine." She stomped her foot. "I'll see you later then."

Hermione found it hilarious to watch how such a rational young woman, like Lily, could act so childish, but she supposed she had her moments, too. She watched Lily's back as she trudged crossly out of the room, no doubt trying to catch up to Alice and Mary, now that Hermione had disappointed her and abandoned her for the day.

She sighed and decided on taking a much-needed shower before going to bed. She hadn't had a proper bath since Thursday evening before bedtime. It was long overdue, and she was quite surprised the boys hadn't commented on her dishevelled state. She wasn't exactly smelly, but her odour had undeniably had better days. Taking a curly lock of frizzy hair, she sniffed at it, and quickly concluded the shower couldn't wait another minute.

She gathered her favourite silk pyjamas and the biggest towel she could find in her arms, and sluggishly made her way to the shared bathroom. While the bathroom was intended to accommodate all six seventh year girls at once, they usually went one at the time, firmly locking the door behind them, all agreeing to privacy when grooming. Well, all but Mary and Alice, as they were thick as thieves and never seemed to stray far from each other.

Hermione was glad privacy was honoured amongst them, seeing as she had quite a few scars she never wished to display in front of anyone. Especially the horrible piece of 'art' Bellatrix had left behind for good. She was afraid it would never fade, and she had quickly discovered glamour charms failed to work where that particular scar was concerned, so long-sleeved shirts, blouses and jumpers it were.

She didn't look forward to summertime, not in the slightest. Thankfully, it was still winter. She stripped out of clothes and looked in the full-length mirror, admiring the golden frame with its elaborate design. Her gaze turned back to her own frame, seeing how much she had changed in the span of a few months.

She was no longer gangly and sickly-looking, malnourished to the point of concern, no; she had certainly gained weight since then. She was still thin, but she could see long awaited curves in the making, curves she had impatiently waited years for. Her mother had always had exceptionally perfect curves and hair – how she ended up with her bird's nest, she still didn't know – and she had wondered why she hadn't inherited it. Unfortunately, it so happened she had taken after her father instead, gangly as he was, with unruly curls and all.

Life really was unfair, but perhaps it was about to change now. Some were late bloomers after all, and she prayed to Merlin and to each and every deity available out there, that she was one of them.

But her body wasn't even close to that of her mother's, sadly, and she doubted her hair would ever change. Perhaps she should just cut it, but she couldn't get herself to do it. Her unruly and defiant hair was part of her, part of who she was, who she had become over the years. She loved to hate it and hated to love it, and she couldn't imagine herself without it, without the frizzy mop on her head. It was odd, but true.

When she had finally washed off old sweat and grime, and had applied a healthy amount of conditioner to her hair, she stepped out of the wonderful shower. Grabbing her towel, she wrapped it around her middle, and went straight to one of the sinks along the wall. She settled herself in front of one of the numerous marble sinks, and looked at the mirror above it. The first thing she did was to wrap another bandage around her arm; she could not stand to look at the ugly wound for longer than necessary, and the immediate concealment was an ingrained habit by now.

Then she brought the dreaded brush to her hair.

God, it was going to hurt trying to untangle it at this point. Her hand hesitated for a moment, before she brought the brush to her dark brown locks. Normally she would have brushed it before entering the shower, but she had happily procrastinated and now she was paying the price.

Her self-inflicted torture was interrupted when Lily barged in rather rudely. Out of pure habit, Lily just rushed in, her fiery red hair a shade darker from the rain outside, and a bit surprised the door was actually open for once. Hermione always locked it, and every night Lily encountered an unbending doorknob, when she got too impatient.

And now you have forgotten to lock the bloody door, she scolded herself in her mind.

"Hermione, are you in here? I decided-" Lily stopped right in her tracks as Hermione turned around to face her shocked friend. Brush in hand, and her arm very much on display for the world to see. Hermione dropped the brush and it fell to the sink with a loud 'clonk'. She fastened her towel unconsciously at the intrusion, clutching onto the soft fabric, as if believing it could shield her from Lily's penetrating gaze.

"What… what is that on your arm?" Lily paled as she spotted Hermione's bandage. She wasn't the first to react in such a horrified and suspicious manner, and she probably wouldn't be the last. Hermione really should have remembered to lock the door, but fatigue had weighed her down and blurred her normal sense of routine.

"I… I can explain." Hermione mumbled, looking at the floor and avoiding Lily's gaze.

Why was it people always jumped to conclusion regarding her bandaged arm? Oh, right. There was an egomaniacal on the loose, branding followers left and right. He was really starting to piss her off, and when she got her hands on the filthy prick she would-

Oh bugger. She halted mid-internal-rant when she realised Lily was still staring murderously at her, so perhaps she should postpone all the vengeful ideas forming in her mind.

"I bloody well hope you can!" Lily spluttered, looking a bit green at the possible explanations.

Hermione looked around frantically, for the first time at loss as to what she should tell her precious friend. She had come to care for Lily a great deal, and it pained her each and every time she lied to her.

Perhaps it was finally time to tell the truth.

She remembered Dumbledore's words. And maybe, just maybe, it was all right to reveal everything to Lily. She knew she would never tell a soul, if Hermione asked her not to, and she… trusted Lily, she realised with sudden clarity.

"Lily… I am not who you think I am." She was shaking at the notion of opening up to someone, having been alone for so long. The normally calm and collected Hermione Granger afraid of telling the truth? Now that was a shocker. Harry and Ron would have had a good laugh, had they seen her like this.

"What do you mean?" Hermione visibly cringed at her friend's betrayed look.

"Please just let me get some clothes on first, I promise I will tell you everything afterwards."

"Fine!" She snapped, and Hermione winced at her tone. She slammed the door shut on her way out, and Hermione realised she was probably more scared than angry at the moment, but instead choosing to hide behind her anger.

Hermione dressed faster than she had ever done before, even though she wanted to do the exact opposite, but she knew the longer she took the more difficult and irrational Lily would become.

"It's not what you think." Lily was startled at Hermione's quick appearance, and she tensed the moment she laid eyes on her. It hurt to see.

"Then explain it to me." She bit out. Hermione sat down next to her on the bed. She grabbed her wand to ward the door to their dorm, but she was shocked to see Lily back away from her, scrambling off the bed to get away. In hindsight it probably wasn't the smartest move.

"I was just going to lock the door." Lily looked sceptically at her. "What I am about to tell you will never leave this room, and in order for me to tell you everything… I need to make sure no one overhears, and I do mean no one." Hermione swallowed heavily. She noted Lily relaxed a bit more, and though done reluctantly, she sat down next to Hermione on her own, even if she kept her distance.

"My name is Hermione Granger." So far, so good. "A few months ago I was tortured at Malfoy Manor by Bellatrix Lestrange, my friends and I were held captive for a while, until Draco Malfoy, the son of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, helped us escape." She held out her arm, now void of the always-present bandage, looking away when tears involuntarily formed in her eyes. "And this is the ugly reminder I am left with."

"Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley and I were on a quest to destroy Voldemort." Hermione continued, looking back at Lily. "Harry James Potter, the son of you and James. The Boy Who Lived and the Chosen One; the boy who was meant to destroy Lord Voldemort."

Lily paled and looked just about ready to faint. Her jade eyes were wide and unbelieving, not that she could blame her. Hermione wasn't sure if this was a step up from her anger, as she had more experience with handling her in an enraged state of mind, at least that was familiar and she was accustomed to dealing with her like that. Right now she didn't have a clue how to act around her.

"You see, I am not from around here… or that is to say, I am, but not from now. Do you understand?" Hermione tried to explain, but what sounded logical and right in her head, came out incoherent and sounded highly unintelligent. If she didn't know any better, she would say she was turning into Ron.

She sighed and then took a deep breath.

"Lily, I was born in 1979, and I was about to die at the hands of Fenrir Greyback, when I… well, how to put it?" Hermione pondered, "You could say I stumbled – or rather, it was more of a fall really – through time, and miraculously ended up here."

Lily continued to look at her like she had grown another head, and Hermione was beginning to fidget at her lack of response. Clutching the comfy bedspread in her hands, bunching as easily as paper, she tried to calm herself.

It really wasn't working.

"And believe me, I know it sounds unbelievable and downright impossible, but it is the truth. And…and if you don't believe me, then you can ask Dumbledore." She said with finality, looking towards the window, eyeing a passing bird. She desperately wished it were her flying around without a care, even if she disliked heights, but at the moment everything was better than this.

Lily gulped and finally spoke. "Hermione, look at me."

She did, and she dreaded the words that would come next.

"I want you to tell me everything, and I do mean everything." She paused. "Please?" She looked pleadingly at Hermione, and honestly, how could she possibly refuse her?

So she did exactly that, baring her soul for another person to see for the first in her life, telling story after story.

She revealed the ugly truth.

She was glad it was Lily sitting next to her.

.


.

"I… I am so sorry, Hermione. I- I don't know what to say." Lily cried, fat tears rolling down her cheeks. Hermione wasn't doing any better, as she, too, could no longer keep the tears at bay.

She broke down in heaves, the cruel motions shaking her slight frame.

It was too much.

"I… I don't have anyone left!" She suddenly screamed, her hands clutching her head, hair tightly gripped in each hand. "I'm alone, all alone now… I have nothing, no one…! All I'm left with are these cruel reminders, scars and memories, and even they will fade in time… I have nothing but hatred and vengeance left, an- and what kind life is that?" She cried harder than she had ever done in her entire life.

She was finally being honest with herself – perhaps for the first time in years – and there was nothing revolutionary about it, nothing eye opening about her confessions. There was only hurt, anger – and finally – acceptance. She had wandered around the castle for two months now, lying to herself, and trying her hardest to ignore what she truly felt.

Denial. Denial. Denial.

She had nothing. No family, no friends, no possessions. She didn't even have her surname anymore for Merlin's sake!

Nothing, absolutely nothing.

She was no one.

All she had was a purpose, but what about afterwards?

Granted, there would actually be a future beyond Voldemort, of course, but what then? What good was a new start, a new life, if she didn't have the people around her she loved the most?

She was falling apart at the seams, and there was absolutely nothing she could do about.

"You have me." Lily whispered soothingly, while scooting over and embracing her, holding her dearest friend close; she hugged her close and hard, with no intention of ever letting go. "You'll have me for as long as I live, after everything you have just told me… how could I not be here for you? How could I not love you?" She whispered in gentle reassuring words, words Hermione needed to hear. Hermione gripped her tighter, as if her life depended on it.

At that moment she couldn't let go; she craved the touch, the feeling, the life she felt return to her body at Lily's tender touch. She felt human, and most importantly – she felt alive, she felt every fibre, every nerve in her body come alive.

She had no idea how long they stayed like this, Lily stroking her hair and holding her close, but she wanted the moment to last forever. Lily might be younger than her right now, but at that moment Lily felt as old and comforting as her mother to her, like a soothing mother trying to comfort her child, clinging desperately.

Reluctantly Hermione tried to disentangle herself from Lily's death grip, wiping her eyes with her sleeve once she sat by herself again, though not far from Lily. Lily's eyes were as red and puffy as hers must have been, and she had a feeling the proof of their talk would not disappear anytime soon.

"There's another thing Lily…" she sniffled, and cleared her throat, as the words came out in a strangled voice.

"If I… If I get a seizure at some point, don't panic… just call for Madam Pomfrey."

"What? Why!" Lily looked mortified at the mere thought of her having a seizure at all.

"It's a long-term side affect of the Cruciatus curse." Lily's eyes went wide for the umpteenth time that day. "It hasn't happened yet, but it is a possibility." Hermione looked away in shame. She didn't know why she felt ashamed, but she did.

Lily was quiet for a while, and Hermione was lulled into a faraway state of mind, if she could even call it that.

"Well," Lily erupted all of a sudden, her eyes still misty, "that settles it then!" Hermione jumped at her words.

"What?" Hermione croaked in confusion.

"I am never leaving you again! You are permanently stuck with me, whether you want me to or not!"

Hermione did the only thing she could think of; she pulled Lily into a bone-crushing hug, being the instigator of a hug shared between the two of them for the first time. Lily started to cry again.

"Thank you, Lily."

What more could she possibly say in return?

.


.

"Edwards, you seem… different somehow." He quirked an eyebrow at her, a puzzled look gracing his handsome features. She was sure he had noticed her slightly red eyes, although the puffiness was long gone, but he said nothing.

"I feel different." She stated with a carefree smile, still staring at the bickering couple across the room. Lily looked just about ready to toss James out of the nearest window.

It was already evening and things were back to normal. Sort of, anyway. The boys had returned, loudly and boisterous as usual, attracting the attention of everyone in the near vicinity. They had bought quite a bit in Hogsmeade and Hermione feared for everyone. Lily had spotted their supply almost immediately, and was currently in the middle of tearing James a new one.

She let out a chuckle at the scene playing out before them; their friends knew how to cause a ruckus alright, and they did so quite often. It was a stress-reliever, for them and for her. They wouldn't know it, but their antics were so familiar it made her want to laugh, and loudly at that.

"You know, you really aren't so insufferable as you seem." She turned her head to look at him, really look at him, and while she didn't see him 'in a completely new light', or something equally corny, she did allow herself to look past his bratty behaviour for once. She was certain there weren't many people who saw the person behind his façade, and she was a bit startled when she realised she liked what she found.

But for the time being, it wasn't something she would think too hard on. For the moment she was basking in the relief and happiness she felt. It was an indescribable feeling, fuzzy and warm, and something completely Lily-ish. If that made any sense.

Everything else could come later. Whatever that might be.

"Big words coming from you." He didn't respond with any of his usual tacky comments like 'I knew you lusted after me, you naughty little minx!' or 'Pinch my arm, because I think I am dreaming'. It was a moment of acceptance, shared by the two of them – and a promise of change. She wasn't quite sure what exactly would change, but she knew things wouldn't stay the same for long.

"True."

"And what brought this on, if I might ask?" He looked curiously at her.

"Oh, nothing in particular."

Just about everything.

"You are being vague on purpose, aren't you?" He frowned and cocked his head to the side, yet again reminding her of the way a dog would. Perhaps your personality had something to do with your Animagus form, the similarities and characteristics. She would have to look that up later, when she finally had time to read the book she had received from her favourite professor.

"Yes." She smiled up at him.

"I really don't get you, Edwards, I really don't." He shook his head, wondering what the hell was on her mind. He never understood her reactions, but perhaps he wasn't meant to.

Too bad it only made him want to unravel the mystery that was Hermione Edwards even more.

"Never mind, Black. I'm going to bed now, and no, that was not an invitation." She fired at him, when she realised he was about to propose a night of fun. She threw in a glare for good measure.

Not bloody likely.

"Your loss, Edwards." He smirked at her.

"So you say." She muttered, but decided to let it slide. She longed for her soft and ready-made bed, so honestly, he could bugger off for all she cared. She turned to leave, no longer in the mood for dealing with the resident playboy, lest she actually start yelling at him again. He could rile her up in no time; sometimes it amazed her more than it annoyed her. But of course he couldn't leave it at that.

Even if you asked him, he probably couldn't tell what compelled him to do it, but his hand seemed to grow a mind of its own the minute she turned around, looking ready to stomp up the stairs with a petulant look on her face.

Not seconds after she decided to leave, the resounding slap of his hand connecting with her buttock was heard in the common room, followed by a very loud shriek from Hermione.

He smirked, but had the mind to disappear before she got a hold of him.

"SIRIUS BLACK!"

She needn't have bothered yelling at all, as the person in question was already up the stairs on his way to the safe confines of the boys' dorm. The common room burst out in laughter at the very constipated look on Hermione's face, and some hollered at Sirius to come down and face her like a man, but at least, Hermione thought, he had sense enough to not do that. She wasn't sure what she would do to him, had he stayed. She briefly made eye contact with Lily, sensing Lily's wish to run over and latch onto her again. Hermione barely noticed the snickering James at Lily's side.

She shook her head, and turned around. She was ready to stomp all the way up to her bed like an irrational child, but found that she wasn't quite as mad as she usually would have been. She felt liberated and happy.

She shook her head again.

"The truth shall set you free." She whispered gently, as she ascended the stairs to her awaiting bed.

She smiled to herself.


AN: I am SO sorry for the long wait. Truly, I am. Everything sort of went… well bad, really bad. But hey, at least I'm out of the loony bin, right? Wow that feels odd to write. Anyway, don't mind me, I'm just a bit whiny these days.

I'm not sure how the Dumbles/Hermie interaction went, but in my opinion it was… needed. Sort of, I think. As I see it, she has a lot of unresolved frustrations, a lot of pent up anger and resentment towards Dumbledore. Being on the run, alone with Harry and Ron, and seeing what it did to all of them, I think she blamed Dumbledore on more than one occasion. But now that they have reached a truce, of sorts, I think she might be more respectful towards him, and I'm inclined to think he will as well.

Buuuuut! Are you ready for all the fun stuff now? Because this was the kick-off (or whatever you prefer to call it). Prepare for lots of Sirmione action from now on.

And THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU, for all the amazing reviews. I swear, every time I see a review I get the urge to write. I never thought a story of mine would end up with so many fantastic reviews! It simply blows my mind. So, I hope the chapter was to your liking, and I'll definitely try to get another chapter done (and posted) soon.

Love,

Winnie

Ps. A belated happy Christmas and a happy new year to everyone.